Of Fools
by Kilrez
Summary: ‘I really hope I’m the only one with a copy of this,’ Chase mentioned, digging the key to the padded room out of his pocket and laying it next to him. ‘I do too, for your sake. I hear sexual exhaustion is a nasty way to die.’
1. Prologue

April Fools Day 

Dedications: OK. This story has a couple of dedications attached to it, mostly due to the wonders of msn. In chronological order, thanks to Darkangel38, who gave me the original idea, when we discussed the fact that House would be interesting on his own in a plain white room (which led to me thinking, 'why not make it a padded room?'). Thanks to The Mad Beta, because after an incredibly long stagnation, she said 'water balloons,' and that was the missing link between the WIP and the ending I had in mind. And finally… HI LIZ! Because I want to embarrass her. If anyone knows her in real life (she's studying at Nottingham Uni at the moment), please, just go up to her and say 'I know you read fan fiction.'

Story notes (because I can't go without them): This falls somewhere after Love Hurts and somewhere before Hunting, and actually explains Cameron's actions in both, although that was not the point or the aim of the story. In actual fact, this story has no point or aim, but if it did, that wouldn't be it. It would probably be something about underwear really…. Anyway- there are no spoilers, just the occasionally reference to certain episodes that you won't even notice if you haven't seen them (the eps, not the references). Lastly, this story thoroughly skirts the large majority of deep and meaningful issues- it's like bubblegum for the brain. Enjoy!

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House shook his head in mock disappointment, fighting to hold back a smirk as he listened to the raucous laughter of his team on the other side of the thick, padded door. He was standing with his back to it so they couldn't see him through the small window embedded in the door, which they would construe as a petty attempt at retaliation- they had yet to learn the important lesson of looking for the second level of deception. But that would only work to his advantage for the moment, as, today, he would be teaching them to pay heed a different lesson. Unfortunately for them. 

Oh yes, this would be sweet.

Allowing his evil grin to triumph, House began spinning his cane with one hand, surveying the small padded cell he had been locked into. It was beautifully ironic justice; he had to commend them on that. Too bad he'd seen it coming a mile off.

Cocking his head, he caught the murmurs of conversation through the door and stilled the cane so he could listen.

'…we have to bring him lunch though.' _Ah, Cameron._ Her attempt at sincere worry was marred slightly by the laughter still apparent in her voice.

'You're too compassionate. Take a leaf out of Chase's book…' That was all he caught from Foreman as the conversation faded. They were walking away. The grin took House's face again. It was time for step one of the Lesson.

Despite taking his iPod and yoyo that he'd had on him, Chase had unfortunately failed to notice that House had switched canes, although, to be fair, the two canes did look pretty similar. Except that this cane was hollow, and the head screwed off to give access to the secret compartment. House extracted the necessary equipment from the cane before reconstructing it, using it to get on his knees in front of the padded door. The cells were designed to be escape-proof and difficult to hurt yourself in, so there was no handle on this side, only a lock in case a member of staff got trapped in there unintentionally. As opposed to intentionally.

Working carefully and slowly, because he was balancing most of his weight on his left knee, _and_ keeping his head below the level of the window, he proceeded to pick the lock, getting three of the pins on the first rake, and working the other two in shortly afterwards. Cautiously, he turned the barrel, and the door swung open a crack, away from him.

He left it there as he stumbled to his feet, pocketing the lock hook and rake. Glancing out the small window to check the coast was clear, he shouldered the door open, limping into the corridor. He noticed the sign on the door with a snort. It read 'Warning, do not open. Dangerous animal inside.' Thinking about it, House decided he was flattered. With a rising heart at the mere thought of all the fun he was going to have, he limped off down the corridor, swinging the door shut behind him.

End Prologue. TBC.


	2. Crosswords and cross trainers

**Chapter 2**

**Chromo26 **(chewchewchew), **QT Roo, ladyhound **(the second they invented House, the potential for evil became great. Don't pin it all on me XP), **Alipeeps **(just keep that belief a-hangin') and **HouseCat**, your reviews made me squeal in happiness, and subsequently go into epileptic fits when my pancreas confused happiness with chocolate and sent my blood sugar levels soaring. Thankyou... so much... just... -sniffles-

Oh, and again... LIZ BETA'ED THIS! Not only does she read fanfiction, she beta's it too! Anyone, anyone at all out there in real life knows her (sorta brown hair, Austalian accent)... just walk right up and accuse her. You know you want to.

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The three members of House's team were in a jubilant mood as they returned to the diagnostics office.

'It still feels kinda wrong,' Cameron tried to rationalise, although they could tell she was enjoying it as much as them.

'Aw, come on Cameron. You know he deserves it. This is our one chance at comeback for all his abuse.'

'And we might actually have a chance to catch up some work.'

'You mean catch up your crosswords?'

'Now that hurts.' Chase turned sincere eyes on Foreman, who cracked up again, setting the other two off. They were still snickering as they made their way to their respective desks. It was nearly half a minute before they realised what was wrong.

Picking up a medical journal with an article she'd been meaning to read for several days, Cameron flipped through it once, before putting it down and beginning to rifle through the piles of paper on the desk.

'Uh…' That was from Chase, his voice disturbed. Cameron could hear the sounds of paper-rustling in stereo from behind her, and spun around on her chair, hoping that she wouldn't see what she knew she would.

Foreman looked mildly impressed, as he stood and moved to the bookcase, pulling out a text book at random. Flicking through it, he blinked. 'That's impossible.'

'Apparently not.'

'The book too?'

Foreman nodded, picking out another book and checking. 'All of them. How the hell did he manage that?'

'It might not have been him. I was in here just before and it wasn't like this. And he's currently locked up in a psych cell,' Cameron reasoned, frowning. She had no idea how anyone could manage this, even if they were talking about House. Every single scrap of paper in the room was blank, the text simply gone.

The three of them looked at each other. 'So much for getting work done.'

'Or crosswords,' said Chase bitterly, holding up a blank sheet of newspaper with the grid of the crossword in one corner. Cameron stood up and moved closer to look at it, her face morphing from confused frown to amusement. The crossword was the only bit of ink that had been left in the room, but it had been filled out in black pen, the neat answers taunting Chase.

'He obviously knows your weak spot,' sniggered Foreman. Cameron froze, the words ringing through the room like truth. Chase noticed the look on her face.

'What?' He asked her, slightly worried.

'I just… I vote we stick together today. He's obviously set this up somehow, so there might be other stuff.'

'Yeah, that's probably a good idea.' Foreman nodded, sobering, although secretly, all three of them were enjoying the thrill of a challenge freshly presented.

'So what now?' Grumped Chase. 'It's not like we can get anything done in here.'

'We could sell tickets to see the amazing caged House,' Cameron broke down in giggles again, the thought of House in a padded cell just too good. Chase nodded thoughtfully, a wicked smile on his face.

'Not a bad idea. Come on. We can set up a base in the clinic.'

The three of them stood and headed down to the clinic together, not looking back at the room of the mysteriously blank paper.

They all took consults from the waiting room, spreading the word of the trapped House around the nurses between patients. To Foreman's great amusement, several of the patients had very interesting stories regarding their injuries and April Fools pranks, and the team immersed themselves in the work, perhaps foolishly forgetting the looming danger of pranks to themselves.

Cuddy was conspicuously absent from the clinic, probably having heard about House's incarceration. Generally, she didn't approve of foolishness in her hospital, but then, it _was_ House. And really; he did deserve it. So she kept out of the way of House's team, because officially, she'd have to reprimand them. Unofficially, she'd sent an intern to get a photo of it, although he'd disappointingly returned with the news that House was out of view- probably sitting against the door.

Around morning break time, when the clinic was experiencing a lull, the three young members of House's team met up again outside exam room one, sharing a conniving look which said 'we've got our boss locked up in a padded cell. Isn't it fun?' No one mentioned it though as they agreed to go to the cafeteria to get some coffee.

Walking down the hall shoulder to shoulder, Chase dropped back for a moment to let a wheelchair past when he noticed something. Taking the yellow post-it notes off each of his co-worker's backs, he stepped up again, holding them out to them.

'What the…?' Foreman frowned as he read his note. _Delinquent._

'I am _not_ a whiner,' stated Cameron angrily, making Chase laugh. Cocking her head for a moment, Cameron reached around and pulled the post-it note off his back. Reading it before he could reach it, she laughed. He made a grab for it, his face contorting as he read it. Foreman snatched it off him without a fight, joining Cameron in her laughter. 'Rich brat,' he read out, fresh waves of laughter bubbling up at the scowl on Chase's face.

Quickly, Chase scanned the corridor behind them, but it was empty of anyone who could have planted the notes. They could have been done any time during their clinic hours though. He grimaced at the thought of how long he could have been wondering around with that stuck to his back. 'Oh, shut up, both of you. Come on, I want coffee.' He stalked off, Cameron and Foreman following with a few last snickers.

Standing in the lift as the doors closed, Foreman glanced up at the floor numbers, when bright red words on the ceiling caught his eye. He craned his neck up further to read them, noting with considerable bemusement that there was also an insulting cartoon pasted next to them. He tilted his head to the side, trying to work out just what it was he was supposed to be doing to the goat.

Chase saw him looking and glanced up as well, before looking down and hurriedly jumping into the corner of the lift, putting one hand on to each of the rails and lifting his feet. Cameron had reacted just as quickly in the same manner, but Foreman just stood there, puzzling now over the words.

'Your shoelace is undone?' He muttered, finally looking down at his feet. 'Ahh!'

Chase was cracking up again, although Cameron looked mildly disconcerted as her arms shook slightly from the strain. Foreman attempted to lift one foot, then the other, with no success. He swore, loudly and at length.

'Yeesh, you kiss your mother with that mouth?' The lift door dinged and Chase jumped out with a feat of acrobatics. Cameron had been in the closer corner, so she managed to slide out without too much difficulty. They stood on the floor outside the elevator, helplessly watching Foreman as he attempted again to unstick his feet.

'Close call,' commented Chase offhandedly. Foreman glared at him, holding the doors open with one hand.

'It's your runners,' pointed out Cameron, slight resignation in her voice.

'Duh it's my runners,' snapped Foreman.

'No, your weakness,' clarified Cameron. 'Something you'd be really pissed off about him screwing with.'

Foreman thought about this, realisation hitting. 'Hold the doors,' he told Cameron. She complied and he bent and undid his shoelaces, stepping one socked foot and then another out of them and on to the varnished wooden floor outside the lift. He gave a morose sigh, turning to look at his shoes, stranded, stuck, in the middle of the lift.

'I'd be really interested to know how he knew we'd take this lift. And that no one else would run into the glue before we did,' Chase speculated, looking a little spooked.

Foreman and Cameron shared a look, admitting nervousness. House could strike in any way, at any time, and he'd proven it twice.

'So…' Foreman narrowed his eyes, looking Cameron up and down once. 'What's something that would piss _you_ off?'

'I don't get pissed off,' Cameron countered with a small smile. Chase snorted. She turned a withering stare on him, which he returned innocently. 'Anyone remember that coffee we were going to get?'

'I need some shoes,' grumbled Foreman.

'I still don't think we should split up. And…'

'What?'

'Maybe we should go check if he's still in the cell.'

'How could he have gotten out?'

'I don't know. But how would he have managed to cover the floor in there with fresh superglue right before we got inside?'

'Eh. He probably paid someone to do it.'

'Probably,' repeated Cameron meaningfully.

'Fine. Lets go.' Foreman stalked off, looking slightly less imposing without shoes. Cameron and Chase followed him dutifully, sniggering at his mismatched socks.

End Chapter 2. TBC


	3. Traps and Traitors

**Chapter 3**

To **Charmed-angel4 **(trampolines, all the way), **Chromo26** (procrastination is the only word you need to know), **paige fan **(soon enough?), **QT Roo **(aren't they always?) and **HouseCat **(start the dramatic horror music), go my gratitude, my dignity, and my first born child. Enjoy the next chapter y'all! (personally, beyond here is where I reckon the story starts to get interesting -evil grin-)

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'But, but… it's impossible!'

'You've already said that,' stated Chase darkly, surveying the empty padded cell from the threshold. Forman had stormed into the middle of the cell, spinning around once, even looking at the ceiling, just in case. Cameron stepped tentatively inside whilst Chase held the door open, doing her own inspection. They'd cautiously opened the be-warning-ed door when they hadn't been able to see House through the window, only to have their worst fears confirmed.

'Maybe someone let him out…' Cameron offered, a flicker of hope in her voice.

'Do you think any one in this hospital would let him out? I mean, Wilson's in on this with us, and there isn't anyone else in this entire building that would even dream of letting House loose on April Fools day after last year.'

'So how do you explain it?' Demanded Cameron irritably as Chase stepped forwards from where he'd been standing in the doorway, moving past Cameron and Foreman to pick up a discarded, white piece of paper lying previously unseen on the floor. They noticed him, and stopped bickering for a moment.

'Read it out,' commanded Foreman, and none of them noticed that the door had slowly started to swing closed.

'Um… "that wasn't very nice. Extra clinic hours for all of you." And that's it…' Chase flicked the paper over once, discovering words on the other side. ' "PS: watch the door," ohshitgetthedoor!' He exclaimed, making a dive for it and wedging a foot in the gap right before it swung shut. Panting slightly, he shared a significant look with the other two. They looked suitably nervous, very nearly having been caught in their own trap.

Clenching his jaw, Chase shoved the door open, holding it there so Cameron and Foreman could get out. They did so quickly, not wanting the danger of staying in that room a moment longer where House's tricks could catch up to them.

'Maybe he can walk through walls,' offered Chase. Foreman turned back to give him a scathing retort, when something on the door caught his eye.

'That… hypocrite!' he spat, using all the vehemence of a particularly foul swear word. Bending to inspect the lock, just to make sure, he nearly growled.

'What?' Asked Cameron, extremely curious.

'See these?' Foreman indicated some small scratches on the metal of the face of the lock. 'He picked the lock, the bastard. Nothing magical. But that ain't a skill you pick up by leading a strictly lawful life.'

'Hah. Figures House would have some larceny in his background. I wonder if Wilson knows about it?'

'Probably, but there's no way he'd be telling.'

'He helped us get House in there,' pointed out Cameron.

'Should have helped us search him,' grunted Foreman sulkily. 'We need a plan. At the moment, we've got no hope of countering him. He's on the loose and striking at will.'

'So what do we do?' Asked Chase, essentially underlining the flaw in Foreman's theory. How did one protect oneself from the evil pranks of a genius cripple?

'We could find him. If he's in our line of sight, that at least limits the damage he can do.'

'Good idea.'

The cell door swung shut behind them as they walked away, but none of them noticed the sign pinned to the door now simply read 'beware.'

**oo00OO00oo**

_Late, the night before _

_Wilson stumped into his office, tired after a long day, hell, a long month. He just wanted to go home to his wife and dinner. Flicking the light on with one hand, he nearly screamed when he saw who was sitting behind his desk, feet propped up on the expensive wood. House looked amused at his reaction._

'_You know, an oncologist dying from a heart-attack is just a bit too ironic for my liking,' grumbled Wilson, taking in the sight of House. Something was definitely up, with that devious look on his face. It always boded ill for Wilson behaving responsibly._

'_Only because you'd be the one doing the dying. Everyone else would just be amused.'_

'_Just so long as you don't read my eulogy. What do you want?'_

'_Dr. Wilson, I'm wounded. Why would you think that I need a reason to lie in wait for my best friend in his office, in the dark, long after everyone else has gone home?'_

'_Oh gee. I wonder.'_

'_OK, you caught me with your witty re-buttal. I'll cut to the chase, metaphorically speaking. As you are probably aware, tomorrow is the first of April.'_

'_Planning to cover the hospital with toilet paper?' Asked Wilson tiredly, not feeling up to matching the wicked glint in his friend's eye._

'_I was more referring to your plans. Or to be more specific, the plans that my loving employees have convinced you are a good idea.'_

_Wilson tried to school his features into sceptical ignorance. 'What are you talking about?' There. Not strictly a lie… damn, he was doing that piercing stare thing. A see-all look on his face, House abruptly flicked on Wilson's desk lamp and turned it so the beam fairly blinded him, inquisitor style._

'_I think you know what I'm talking about Dr. Wilson. And I'd like it very much if you'd make a decision for me right now.'_

'_Sure. Wear the blue shirt tomorrow, it goes with your eyes.' Wilson squinted against the bright light, going for flippant, but knowing he was terminally busted. He wasn't sure why he'd thought the well planned prank would get past House._

'_Noticing my eyes now Wilson? Something your wife should know about?'_

'_What do you want House?' Wilson repeated, slightly irritated._

'_You have two options. One, you can continue with your evil plans of betrayal, get into bed with my team- metaphorically speaking or not if you will- or… you can take the more reasonable road.'_

'_Uh huh. And what have you got to offer me to recompense for the potential loss of getting to lock you up in a padded cell?' Wilson pretended to play hard to get, but he knew he'd agree to whatever House was asking. If he'd already discovered the Plan, then it would be stupid not to._

'_Well for starters, you'll still get to do that. And let me just say… evil plans are looking like a very bad move for you. I checked your horoscope. It said something about ending the day covered in shaving cream and feathers with every person in the hospital knowing about your little underwear fetish.'_

'_That's low House. It was only once, and only because you dared me to.'_

'_You should have known better. So? What's your answer?'_

'_What would I have to do?' asked Wilson suspiciously, starting to get drawn in._

'_Yes or no first.'_

'_Yeah, I'll help.' Wilson sighed. His common sense stormed off in a huff. He ignored it._

'_Excellent… for the moment, I simply require you not to tell my darling minions that anything is amiss. More instructions will be revealed in the fullness of time.' House flicked the lamp off and whipped his left leg off the table, spoiling the effect slightly by having to carefully lift his right leg down by his pant-leg before he could spring to his feet. Nodding once in a conspiratorial manner to Wilson, he exited, the thumping of his cane fading into the darkness of the hallway. Wilson found he had a goofy grin on his face. April Fools Days were always interesting at PPTH._

End Chapter 3. TBC.

ps. Liz beta'ed that one too.


	4. Baby Blue and Betrayal

**Chapter 4**

Well well. Look at that sudden influx of reviews (yours doesn't count Liz). Y'all shouldn't encourage me you know. I'll only do it again. -evil grin- OK, I give in. Here's another chapter. Thanks to the valience in reviewing of **HouseCat****, Klashfor, ****Siyavash, ****paige fan **and **Chromo26. **You should all learn from their brilliant examples (says the review hungry author).

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They had finally split up, despite Cameron's not unfounded misgivings. Frankly, trying to cover the entire hospital in a House-search _without _splitting up was a bad idea. And just continuing on as normal like sitting ducks, or ducklings, was even stupider. 

They'd agreed to page one another if they found him, or meet up at the cafeteria for lunch if they couldn't.

And so began the search of all the obvious places that House used to avoid clinic duty. And then all the less obvious places. And then the just plain obscure places.

Chase and Foreman were both looking slightly defeated as they met up at a free table in the cafeteria, carrying their trays. To make matters worse, word had gotten out that their prank had backfired on them, and they were drawing more than a few covertly amused glances. Not to mention the fact that Foreman was wearing canvas scrub shoes instead of his normal runners.

Their own personal miseries were banished, however, when Cameron showed up.

'Don't. Say. A. Word,' she warned them through gritted teeth. Foreman was biting hard on his lower lip, and Chase was staring at his coffee, shoulders shaking. Regally ignoring them, she sat.

'It's… blue's your colour,' sniggered Chase, unable to help himself. Cameron punched him on the shoulder.

'Ow! Aggressive much?'

'I can be much more aggressive if you want,' she said sweetly. There was something terrifying about the combination of her look and tone. Chase swallowed, quickly returning his gaze to his coffee. Taking this as a submission, Cameron started to pick at her food, spine stiff. Foreman looked her up and down, amusement warring with curiosity.

'How'd…?'

'Which part of 'I will castrate you if you don't shut up' don't you understand?'

'Right. So this is you not being pissed off then?' Commented Chase, becoming amused again despite himself.

'We have to find him and make him pay.' She stated with blank menace, not answering the question. Foreman grinned, white teeth flashing. 'Finally, you're starting to see my point of view.'

'Amen.'

'We need to set another trap. There's no way we're gong to find him just by searching.'

'I've got it,' said Chase, eyes lighting up. Foreman raised his eyebrows sardonically.

'Will this be more fruitful than the original plan that ended up with an enraged House loose in the hospital on April Fools?'

Chase ignored him, laying out his new plan. 'His TV. Or iPod, or something. We nick it, and threaten to destroy unless he comes out of hiding. Then we lock him up again, and make sure he's got no lock picks or anything on him.'

'Hard ball. I like it,' confirmed Foreman grudgingly, grinning in anticipation.

'With a straight jacket,' growled Cameron. 'And a gag. And a sign pinned to him that reads 'bastard.' We can possibly strip him naked and make him run through the hospital first. Oh, and smash his TV into little bits anyway.'

'Remind me never to get on your bad side.'

Cameron gave him a withering stare; ruined slightly by how cute she looked with wet hair, and in baby-blue scrubs. It looked like she'd either been dunked in water, or something worse that had required a shower.

'Right then. Let's get to work.'

'Um… how do we get the message to him?'

'No idea.'

Foreman sighed, taking a bite of his sandwich. His fantasies of April Fools day were not being fulfilled as imagined.

**oo00OO00oo**

Wilson looked up from his reading as the three members of House's team filed into his office. 'What's up?'

'I assume you know by now that he's escaped,' stated Foreman glumly.

'Has he? Uh oh. Smells like trouble… Cameron, why are you in scrubs?'

He looked confused when he got no answer other than a scowl.

'Do you have any idea where he might be hiding? Or, failing that, how we might get a message to him?'

'Uh… not that I can think of right now… why?'

'Cameron's thirsting for revenge,' snickered Chase, although his humour subsided as he noticed a yoyo resting innocuously on the corner of Wilson's desk. Wilson noticed him noticing, and sighed.

'What's going on?' Asked Foreman suspiciously. Wilson carefully put his pen down and stood, not answering for a moment. Walking around his desk and past the three of them, he glanced out into the hallway before closing his office door.

'I really am sorry guys. He blackmailed me with some pretty serious stuff.' He regarded them with puppy dog eyes that begged them to understand as he stood in front of the door, blocking escape.

'Wilson!' Cameron was dismayed at the betrayal. Foreman looked resigned, and slightly appreciative of the masterful way House had played it.

'So what now?' Asked Chase cautiously.

'He said I just had to keep you in here for a bit. So now we wait.'

Foreman groaned, briefly looking at the ceiling. Who knew what havoc House could be wreaking whilst they were being held captive by Wilson.

'Has he been hiding in here the whole time we were looking for him?' Asked Cameron.

'Not exactly,' evaded Wilson.

'Well obviously,' Foreman snapped at Cameron. 'He would have had to venture out to glue my shoes to the floor.'

Wilson looked down at Foreman's canvas-clad feet, eyebrows rising.

'You could have at least got a warning out to us Wilson,' Chase appealed.

'Sorry, couldn't risk it.'

'What exactly is he holding over your head?' Asked Cameron suspiciously. Wilson turned slightly pink. 'Nothing you guys are ever going to hear about.'

Three sets of eyebrows went up. It figured Wilson would have some dirty little secret that only House would know about.

Wilson's pager beeped. He checked it, and glanced nervously at the team.

'What?' Asked Chase, suspicious, nervous…

'Uh…' Wilson was turning pinker. Cameron shifted anxiously a bit further away from Wilson.

'You guys know… well… how House finds out about stuff right?'

'Yeah…?'

'And he's been at this hospital a while…'

'Yeah, we know that Wilson. Get to the point.'

Wilson chewed on his lower lip for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand before letting in drop and looking at them hopelessly. 'I'm not the only one he's got dirt on for blackmail.'

'Oh shit,' commented Chase, feeling a prickling at the back of his neck and turning around to look at the other door out of Wilson's office, which led out on to the balcony he shared with House. There was now a sign on it, saying 'follow the white rabbit.'

'What the…?' started Foreman.

'Alice in Wonderland?' Cameron asked the world at large.

'I suggest you go through the door,' Wilson said helpfully. Chase turned to glare at him, on edge.

'Right. Brilliant idea. And if we don't?'

'Please do,' replied Wilson simply, and there was something in his voice. Cameron glanced from the door to him, eyes narrowing. 'Are you about to pull out a water pistol?' She asked suspiciously.

'No. He said I would be too soft-hearted to use it,' Wilson confessed. 'Walk through the door please.'

'Uh uh. No way. We're not that stupid.'

'OK. Guess I'll have to let you go then.' He stepped away from the corridor door, moving back to his desk and innocently returning to work. Three pairs of eyes watched him suspiciously.

'Aw, come on. That's not fair!' whined Chase. Now both doors were equally dangerous. Wilson didn't reply, finishing reading one document and starting on the next one with a pen back in his hand.

'We could split each way,' reasoned Foreman.

'Or we could just stay here.'

'What will that achieve? We have to get him back.'

Wilson was smiling listening to their dilemma. House had indeed made it worthwhile to go along with his plan. Playing with the heads of ducklingswas as fun as it looked.

'Wilson?'

'Hmm?'

'We're kidnapping you.'

'We are?'

'Shut up. We are.' Cameron turned back to the oncologist, speaking firmly with eyes narrowed in a way that meant business. 'You're coming with us. As a hostage.'

'OK, but can I remind you that it wouldn't really bother House if I fell prey to all of his pranks as well?'

'Yeah, we'll see. That's what you get for turning traitor. Up. Open that door.'

Amused at her curt tone, Wilson put his pen back down again and moved to the other door, the one with the sign on it, and twisted the handle, opening it. A perfectly normal balcony greeted the eyes of the diagnostics team, a couple of twittering birds turning to look at them curiously. Cameron looked at Chase and Foreman, and they shrugged at her, essentially giving her the lead.

'We know the way we've just been isn't booby trapped, so we'll go that way,' she reasoned, gesturing for Wilson to go first. He swung the door to the balcony shut, and moved to do as she motioned when Chase swore softly, having felt another back-of-the-neck prickle.

'How did he do that?' muttered the Australian. The sign on the door to the balcony now read 'Don't be stupid.' Wilson turned back to see what Chase was looking at, but didn't look that impressed. He looked to Cameron for instructions, and after a nervous moment of jumpy indecision, she indicated that they were still going back out the way they had come. Wilson opened the door.

Cautiously, the three ducklings made their way down the corridor, keeping a bemused Wilson in front of them. They aimed for the diagnostics office, sticking to their original plan of taking House's portable TV hostage. They couldn't help the feeling that the people in the halls were silently laughing at them, but this had gone beyond mere dignity. This was revenge.

House waited until the door to Wilson's office was well and truly closed before taking the lampshade off his head, an evil smirk playing about his lips.

End Chapter 4. TBC (I think there's a goat in the next chapter. As well as the line that made the summary.)


	5. Bail and Balistic Balloons

**Chapter 5**

Well, it seems you all liked the lampshade gag. This chapter is for **Oni, **who told me not to stop, **alipeeps,**who told me she loved, sneaky, omnipotent House and freaked out ducklings, **Siyavash**, who didn't give a novel sized review >:( **QT Roo**, who found things amusing, **paige fan,** who couldn't wait, **Ataea**, who wants duckling torture (sadist), **Elbereth Gilthoniel**, who LOVED the story, **Calwyn**, who has a sore stomach, **Yamiyugistalker**, who can see it happening, and **Chromo26**, who scares me by comparing it to a movie. Now, bring on the goat!  
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The door into House's office was slightly ajar, and Foreman held up a hand for pause, wary. 'Wilson, open it,' he ordered, eyes narrowing.

Nervously chewing on a lip, and smelling danger just as clearly as Foreman, Wilson craned his neck to see all he could through the glass doors before carefully prodding the door with a foot. It swung open a little further, and a bucket full of flour came plummeting down, hitting the floor inside the office and sending white clouds billowing. Wilson got some on his trousers, but everyone remained relatively unharmed.

Satisfied at outwitting House for once, Foreman nodded and boldly strode into the office. He got hit with a second bucket of flour, rigged to a trip wire just inside the door.

Spluttering, Foreman angrily kicked the now empty bucket, thoroughly covered in flour. 'Shut up,' he snarled at his three colleagues, who were in fits of laughter. House's office was a mess, flour over everything.

'Get his iPod,' Cameron finally managed to order, sparks of her cooling anger still showing through, although it had been largely doused by Foreman's mishap. Scowling, Foreman ventured forward again, eyes peeled for danger. He made it to the desk without mishap, and began searching through the various paraphernalia scattered across it.

'He usually keeps it in the second draw down,' Wilson offered helpfully. Foreman looked at him suspiciously. 'You open it,' he ordered, stepping back to allow Wilson to do so. Rolling his eyes at the paranoia, Wilson opened the draw, pausing for a moment with an contemplative look on his face.

'What?' asked Cameron, watching him from across the desk. Silently, Wilson reached into the draw and pulled out the single note that lay within, holding it out to her. Confused, Cameron took it and read it. Her expression morphed into one of bemused resignation.

'"Theft- three to five years, no bail. Oh, and more clinic hours." He hasn't signed it, but it's in his writing,' she told them, flipping the note over just in case. Nothing.

Dejected at being beaten again, they trailed into the conference room, Foreman trailing floury footprints and all of them looking around for more traps. Except for Wilson, who had an indefinably smug air about him, and didn't so much trail as… perambulate in an indefinably smug fashion.

The whoopee cushion Forman somehow managed to sit on barely even drew a reaction from the sullen mood of the room, apart from a twinkle in the oncologist's eye that he always developed when suppressing inappropriate laughter. All was silent for a few long moments; the sort of silence when no one wants to say anything because they're beaten, well and truly.

'I blame you Chase,' Cameron said eventually, her hair frizzing slightly since it was drying without the aid of much careful hairdryer work. He turned injured puppy eyes on her.

'How is it my fault?' he demanded.

'To be fair,' started Wilson, smugness still apparent, 'you did suggest this in the first place. So you've only got yourself to blame by any trouble caused by trying to best House.'

'Hah,' muttered Chase bitterly. 'That's why you sold at out the earliest possible opportunity I suppose?'

All eyes turned to Wilson for the rebuttle. He shrugged mildly. 'Yes.'

'Oh come on!' grumbled Foreman. 'The man's not invincible. The closest thing he's got to a super power is a cane.'

There was another mild shrug, which made them all scowl. Wilson could be masterfully annoying when he wanted to be.

'I'm going home,' snapped Chase, standing and making to stalk out.

'But the day's not finished,' protested Cameron, predictably. He turned to glare at her. 'We come here to get work done. Right now, there is no point in being here.' He went to finish his storming exit with a flourish, only to be pelted with a rigged water balloon when the door was yanked open.

Infuriated, Chase spluttered in a wombat-like manner.

'Seriously, that's just child-like,' Foreman said with amusement. Somehow, all of House's pranks were a lot funnier when played on other people. He looked to Wilson for confirmation, but Wilson was just watching with a composed expression, a strange gleam in his eye. Narrowing his own eyes, Foreman looked back to the wetted Chase (now starting to rant), a premonition hitting him that even in this bizarre scene, not all was as it seemed. He never would have guessed what would happen next.

The substance in the water balloon didn't seem to have been water. It dried off Chase with the rapidity of an alcohol or ether, but Foreman could smell neither. Chase's angry rantings had also tailed off into puzzlement as he tried to work out what it was he had been covered with.

'Poor Chase,' cooed Cameron, rising from her seat. Her hurt expression from when he had snapped at her now morphed into one of tender sympathy. Puzzled, Chase cocked his head on one side slightly. 'Huh?' he commented eloquently.

'Being splattered with all that nasty stuff. Why don't you take your clothes off? Here, I'll help…' she advanced towards him. Mystified and slightly worried, Chase backed up, his back bumping against the glass door, which he started to push open for a second time. Very, very curious, Foreman looked at Wilson, whose eyes were riveted on the scene, a small smile on the lips.

'What's he done?' he asked suspiciously. Wilson glanced at him only briefly, but Foreman still caught that eerily familiar mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

'Come on Chase, I won't bite. Just peel off that shirt of yours.'

'Cameron,' tried Chase in a reasonable tone. 'What the hell are you talking about?'

She licked her lips, the look on her face enough to make any sane man run. Chase ran, although it was not necessarily a comment on his sanity right at that moment.

As the sound of Cameron's pursuing footsteps faded down the hall, Foreman turned to Wilson again. 'What…?' But Wilson was gone, and Foreman just put his head in his hands, smiling despite himself.

After a few moments, he became aware of a quiet chewing sound. Confused, and not a little scared, he looked around, finally tentatively pushing back his chair and venturing a glance under the table. He couldn't help the groan that escaped him. The goat under the table just eyed him calmly, peaceably chewing its cud. _Or her cud,_ noticed Foreman with a touch of insanity. The goat had an eerie resemblance to Cuddy and was wearing... Foreman blinked and scrubbed his eyes with his hand. No, it was still definitely wearing a pink thong.

**oo00OO00oo**

Desperate, and a little scared, Chase pounded down the hospital halls, mind working furiously on an escape plan. He wove down the halls, the sight of a speeding intensivist (especially one that worked for House) barely causing most to blink, although the occasional female turned her head after him. Cameron, with her frizzy hair, blue scrubs and wild expression elicited a little more of a stir, but there were lots of weird things in this hospital.

The chase continued. Chase continued, running for his virtue. Over a year working for House and he knew the hospital well- its shortcuts and quickest routes- using them all now to put distance between himself and his manic pursuer. He only realized just in time that he did not have the keys to his car on him, and so it would offer no safety. Heart pounding, he changed course, ducking through a thru-ward to double back, just travelling whilst he tried to think where to go. He didn't like the answer that hit him along with the small key bumping around in his pocket, but under pressure from a half-mad immunologist bearing down on him even now, no other place with a firmly lockable door came to his frantic mind. Pausing for only a moment, he changed course yet again.

He slammed the door behind him as he entered, panting and gulping for all he was worth. Blinking innocently, House pulled his iPod ear-buds out and regarded the intruder to his peaceful cell. With eyes wide like a deer, Chase looked back, although he was still panting too much to say anything. Moments later, someone began to pound on the door, and he jumped, nervously sidling away from it although not taking his eyes off House.

'Thought you'd join me did you?'

'House… what… where…?' Chase panted a little more, although he was starting to recover slightly. Smirking in amusement, House leaned back and waited, cushioned comfortably by the rubber floor he sat on.

Rubbing his hand over his eyes, Chase sighed and tried again. 'I'm sorry… Now please make it stop?'

'Make what stop? I've been in here the whole time.' The innocence laced his voice so thickly that it could have been used to make Girl Scout cookies. With a perfect sense of theatrical timing, Cameron began to call through the door, her tone cajoling. Chase shuddered.

Cautiously, he stepped sideways a little more then sat in a similar fashion to House, leaning his back on the bouncy wall. 'I really hope I'm the only one with a copy of this,' he mentioned, digging the key to the padded room out of his pocket and laying it on the floor next to him.

'I do too, for your sake. I hear sexual exhaustion is a nasty way to die.'

'What did you-' (he paused to cough from the running) '-do to her?' asked Chase, mortified afresh at this particular peril he was in. House eyed him, like he was considering whether to deny it all yet again, but he appeared to decide that he could have more fun with Chase by admitting it. Slowly, to show he was in no hurry, he took his yo-yo out of his pocket and began to attempt walk-the-dog.

Chase noticed, like he was supposed to, that it was the same yo-yo that had been in Wilson's office, but he bit his tongue and kept quiet, feeling more and more chastised as House's full mastery continued to sink in.

'Pheromones,' stated House with grand tones, 'are a very powerful force.'

Chase gulped, his body starting to really wind down from his exertions. He could feel his muscles seizing up, both from the running, and from a sinking dread. 'You covered me in pheromones,' he mono-toned.

'Oops,' said House with a mockingly apologetic little smile.

'How long,' uttered Chase, 'will they take, to wear off…?'

House shrugged. 'I think about two months. Not sure. When do you think it was Cameron well and truly dropped her crush on me?'

Chase just looked at him, a spanner abruptly yanked out of his mental cogs so they spun into motion with sudden and painful clarity. 'You tested this on yourself?'

'It was an accident. The wrong mixture of stuff I found in my bathroom cupboard the day I ran out of deodorant. But I figured that I shouldn't have been the only one to suffer.' There was some more innocent batting of the eyelashes, then he turned his concentration back to a successful yo-yo trick. Chase groaned, hunching over and burying his face in his hands.

'I hate you,' he muttered, muffled. 'I really, truly, hate you.'

'So you admit you cooked up this scheme to get back at me?'

'No!' replied Chase, head shooting up to reveal ruffled hair and wide eyes, startled in a sudden panic. He was terrified that an affirmative answer would land him in even more trouble, somehow. 'It was the… the… and the…' he opened and closed his mouth for a bit before: 'Foreman helped plan it too!' came out in a rush. House raised a slow eyebrow, gaze piercing. The yo-yo continued its steady path, almost stroked up and down by those elegant fingers. Chase shrunk down slightly where he was sitting.

'Good to see your ratting-out powers are only improving with time.'

'He's not stuck in a room with his insane boss whilst the door is being beaten down by a manic co-worker right now,' muttered Chase.

'So their good fortune means it's OK to grass on them? Interesting when applied to the Vogler situation…'

Chase just stared at him, doing a combination of deer, and ruffled rabbit. The image was so pathetic that House could see how a lesser man might take mercy. 'Don't worry,' he told Chase in mock kindness. 'Your big brother will be punished fairly too.'

'You call this fair?' demanded Chase miserably. 'You filled out my crossword in pen… and I've got Cameron on me for two months!'

House just smirked, and refrained from coming clean that it wouldn't last more than a couple of hours. The haunted look in Chase's eyes was just too good to relieve.

'I messed up Wilson's expensive pants too,' he offered.

End Chapter 5. TBC, with an epilogue, although probably not until Monday AEST, so half-way through Sunday for the rest of the world. Except China, and India, and Indonesia, and Japan, and Perth. Who together probably make up a majority of the world's population, but it doesn't count, since they're not on the internet. So half-way through Sunday for the important people. :P


	6. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Rejoice. Y'all can be done with my review hungry ways for good now. **Klashfor, HouseCat, Paige Fan, Dru, ****Nikelodean****, Chouse** (lurve your name btw), **elmthesmartypants, ****Holbytan, ****Yamiyugistalker, ****Ataea, ****Elbereth Gilthoniel** and **Chromo26** you can either get personal replies, or this chapter. You'll have to choose. I've already messaged you all anyway, and I'm posting on the run here, so sorry...

As always- Darkangel38 gave me the original idea, The Mad Beta gave me the key to join the dots and finish it off, and LIZ BETA'ED IT.

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House and Wilson stood together, mimicking each other's poses as they leaned thoughtfully on the low balcony wall, looking out to the entrance of the hospital. The sun was just setting behind them, bathing the scene in bloody colours.

'Fitting really,' murmured Wilson.

'Hmm?' asked House, watching the entrance of the hospital below them, waiting for someone.

'The red light. Like a metaphor for a battle.'

House glanced over at him. 'Your consumption of romantic poetry worries me sometimes.'

Wilson gave a small laugh and didn't reply as they both returned to their vigil on the hospital's front entrance. They'd already seen Chase come and go, furtively, if you had to put a word to it. Cameron had left nearly an hour before the pair took up their station, merely looking quite puzzled and slightly embarrassed.

'Heads,' House crowed quietly as the door opened. Wilson watched in anticipation, a very unkind grin on his face.

Expression rivalling thunderclouds, Foreman stalked out of the building, shoulders stiff and with a scowl that would scare even quite big children. He paused for a moment like he could feel the duo's amused gazes burning into him, then shook his head and continued to stalk forward. The occasional feather dropped off and stuck to the trail of shaving cream he left behind him.

When he was out of sight, Wilson sighed like one heartily satisfied, shaking his head at House's cruelty.

'You know you love it,' House chided him.

'All that, just because Chase came up with the idea of locking you in a padded cell for a day?'

House pursed his lips thoughtfully, squinting like he was contemplating 42. 'Yes,' he said finally, evil smirk firmly in place. 'And maybe a little bit because Chase used his feminine wiles to get that key off the psych nurses.'

Wilson laughed out loud.

The end.


End file.
